


Deserted Island

by phenomanon



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Desert Island Fic, Humor, Idiots in Love, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Prompt Fic, Stakeout, Tumblr Prompt, hypothetical situations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:34:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28156152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phenomanon/pseuds/phenomanon
Summary: Greg and Nick play the desert island game with unexpected answers.
Relationships: Greg Sanders/Nick Stokes
Kudos: 18





	Deserted Island

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a prompt on tumblr by rhimoonh via writing-ideas-inc: 
> 
> “Would you quiet down?” A hissed at B, glancing back at them through the dark. “This is supposed to be a stealth mission. You’ll draw attention to us.”
> 
> B smirked at them. “If anything is going to draw attention, it’s that cute little face of yours.”

**“Would you quiet down?” Nick hissed at Greg, glancing back at him through the dark. “This is supposed to be a stealth mission. You’ll draw attention to us.”**

**“If anything is going to draw attention, it’s that cute little face of yours.”**

“I’m serious G, keep an eye out.”

“What are we looking for again?”

Before Nick could lecture Greg for the hundredth time, the younger man stuffed his mouth shut with the remainder of the donut he was eating. Nick cuffed vigorous fingers around Greg’s bony wrist in retaliation, getting a faint moan in response.

“I forgot you’re into that shit.”

“I mean, only with you.”

“Sure.”

Nothing much had changed since they first arrived on the scene with the exception of a few squirrels scattering across the lawn in short intervals. But the combination of Greg’s inability to stay quiet and a rough case of cabin fever developing from sitting in an unmarked car for hours was starting to get under Nick’s skin.

“Ooh I just thought of another one. If you were on a deserted island, what three things would you bring with you?”

“Greg...”

Greg did a little shimmy for the Texan and Nick was already relenting his silent treatment.

“Mine would be a lifetime subscription of Vanity Fair— _no_ Cosmopolitan, an iPhone with Spotify, and you.”

“First of all, how would they ship a magazine to a deserted island? And wouldn’t you want food or water before the April issue of Cosmopolitan? Secondly, where would you charge your phone? Your island rules don’t make sense, G.”

“There are no rules, jeez. Food, water, and all the essentials are taken care of—and I never said you were stuck on the island through a shipwreck or something. My island scenario is a paradise. You’re _choosing_ to be there. So everything you pick would just enhance your experience.”

“That’s too idealistic, even for you.”

“Just answer the question, cranky.”

“Fine. A squat rack, that expensive body wash you always buy, and…a massage chair. The good kind from Sharper Image.”

“Hmm the papaya body wash or the kelp one? Also you’d rather have a squat rack on your island than me?! I’m offended.”

“You said the essentials were already included, and I consider you essential.”

Nick blushed when he noticed Greg’s eyes grow watery.

“You _do_ care.”

“Yeah yeah.”

It was going to be a _looong_ stakeout. 


End file.
